Read Lessons in Letting Go for Free Online

linen cupboard would reveal that all their towels are the same colour and are all folded exactly the same. There is nothing on the kitchen benches—in fact, there is nothing on any of their surfaces except bowls of fruit or flower arrangements or perhaps some kind of weird African artefact reminiscent of something you’d expect to see being used as a murder weapon in a TV crime show. They have a special cupboard just for their kettle. The coffee table holds nothing but one magazine, probably the latest edition of Vogue Living .
    LEVEL 2: As above but they have bookshelves. It is just possible to discern that the people living here have personalities.
    LEVEL 3: Everything is still neat and tidy but a bit more quirky. There is a collection of something—perhaps antique toy cars—displayed in a wooden box with little compartments for each car. There are mixed cushions and throws and framed prints, each accompanied by an anecdote about where it was found or who gifted it. There might be an artfully arranged collection of hardcover books, stacked one on top of the other with a lamp resting on top.
    LEVEL 4: Some of the more quirky pieces are starting to look a lot less like artistic statements and more like twenty-first birthday presents the owners do not have the heart to throw out. There is just a little too much furniture in each room and there is stuff hidden under the bed. If there is a copy of Vogue Living on the coffee table, it’s been there for six months.
    LEVEL 5: The pile of books with the lamp on top looks unstable and is in addition to a real lampstand. There are cushions that match nothing and some of them are hideous. One has a picture of cats on it. There is a pile of magazines, various bits of mail and unpaid bills on the coffee table. There is a bowl of random ‘things to be fixed’ on the kitchen bench. There are magnets smothering the door of the refrigerator holding letters, old cartoons from the back page of the newspaper and out-of-date council notices about hard rubbish collection. There is another refrigerator in the shed.
    The only note stuck to it reads: ‘To be fixed.’
    LEVEL 6: To the untrained eye, these houses may not look much worse than the average, slightly untidy suburban home. Just don’t open the cupboards or try to put something in the boot of their car. These people have been known to fill their saucepans and casserole dishes with old letters and postcards, pop the lids back on and shove them in a cupboard. The bookshelves contain not only books but paperwork, folders, boxes, ornaments and novelty coffee mugs. There are throws placed over desks and occasional tables to camouflage the piles of paperwork hidden underneath. Opening a cupboard normally involves using a free hand to stop everything falling out. There is a room that no one goes into and no one talks about.
    LEVEL 7: One or more family members have had to move out or die to make room for the stuff. Most rooms in the house are unusable and moving around or sitting down involves shifting things. Even the dining chairs are piled with an assortment of crap and the tablecloth is spread in such a fashion as to hide it. There are rusting and broken bits of things in the yard. There is no hiding this amount of stuff and even the neighbours can tell that a hoarder lives next door.
    LEVEL 8: As above but add cats.
    LEVEL 9: These people have never thrown out anything that might be used again. There is used tin foil, egg cartons, old tins, broken televisions and drawers full of string. Every surface is covered. Often these people have lived through the Depression or were incredibly poor at some point in their lives.
    LEVEL 10: These are the people you see on TV. These are the people that either make you feel better about yourself because you are not them, or they petrify you because you are scared you are going to become them.
    I carefully reread my scale and looked around my flat. When I had been living with Thomas I was hovering